


Christmas Revelations

by tayryn



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Older Woman/Younger Man, Romance, Tissue Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-08 16:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5505290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/pseuds/tayryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ghostly visit from a familiar face on Christmas Eve changes Olivia's future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“M?”

“Yes?” she responded without bothering to look up, her attention still on the report in front of her from Bond’s latest mission. He’d surprised her by actually turning it in on time. “What is it, Bond?”

“Would you like to join me for dinner?”

It was several moments before the quietly asked question registered, and she looked up to see him standing before her desk, a hopeful (and if she did not know better, an almost shy) expression on his face, his hands clasped in front of him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Dinner,” he repeated. “I was wondering if you would like to join me for dinner this evening?”

Olivia arched a surprised eyebrow.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Bond began, “And I figure since we’re both alone that it would be a nice way… to… spend…” His voice trailed off under the steady look she was giving him. “But I guess not, so forget I mentioned it.” He finished lamely.

“I appreciate the thought, Bond, but as you can see,” she pointed to the pile of folders on her desk, “I have a lot of work to do, and I will no doubt be here most of the night, Christmas Eve or no.”

Bond nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said, then turned and walked over to the door. He opened it, then paused, looking back over his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, M.”

“Same to you, Bond,” she replied absently, her attention already back on the folder, as she unconsciously rubbed at her chest.

Bond sighed, then quietly left the office.

“That was foolish.”

Olivia’s head snapped up at the familiar voice.

Sitting on the sofa was her husband. Her dead husband. She shook her head. She had to be seeing things.

“No. You’re not seeing things, you haven’t been drugged, and you’re not asleep. I am really here.”

“That’s not possible. You’re - ”

“Dead? Yes, I am. But I am here nonetheless,” Reginald Mansfield said with a smile.

“Why?”

“For your benefit.”

“What do you mean, for my benefit?”

“Just what I said,” Reginald replied. “I know you’ve always been work oriented, old girl, but if you’re not careful, you’re going to miss your chance to connect with the one you’re meant to be with.”

“The one I’m…” Her voice trailed off, and then her eyes grew wide. “You don’t mean…” She snorted. “Surely you don’t mean, Bond.”

“I do.”

“He’s young enough to be my son, not to mention that he’s one of my agents.”

“Age is merely a number,” Reginald told her as he stood, and walked over to stand before her desk. “I know it’s a cliché, but James is your soulmate, my darling. He is the one you are meant to be with, now and for eternity.”

Olivia shook her head, even as she felt her heart quicken its beat. “He can’t be.”

“He can, and he is.”

“But you… I love you, Reg. Even now, I still love you, and I miss you terribly,” Olivia said, forgetting her earlier disbelief that he was real.

Reginald smiled. “I know. And I love you, too. But my soul was never meant to be with yours forever; never meant to complete yours. His is.”

She shook her head again. “I’m thirty years older than he is, how can Bond possibly be my soulmate? If there is even really such a thing.”

“Oh, there is. And it is a glorious thing when we find that person we are meant to be with, the one whose soul is meant to join with ours. And I’ve already told you, age is merely a number. It has no bearing on who we are meant to be with.”

“If you and I are not soulmates, Reg, does that mean you’ve found yours?”

Reginald shook his head. “No. I missed my chance, which is why I am here to help make certain you don’t miss yours.”

“Bond.”

“Yes. Bond,” Reginald replied. “Are you going to tell me you don’t have feelings for him, Olivia? Because even when I was alive, I knew you harboured a desire for him, that you were, in fact, in love with him.”

“Reg…”

He held up his hand to stop her. “It’s all right, Olivia. I know you loved me, but I also know you love him as well, and that you have for quite a long time.”

“Perhaps, but it was, and is nothing more than the fantasies of a foolish old woman. James is not, and could not be interested in me that way. He could have his pick of any number of beautiful young women, why would he want an old woman like me?” Olivia shook her head sadly. “No, James does not see me as anything more than his superior.”

“So certain are you?”

“Yes.”

Reginald smiled, then walked around her desk, and held his hand out to her. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Just come with me. There’s something I need to show you. Something you need to see.”

“Reg, I…”

“Olivia, trust me.”

She looked up at him for several moments. Not once, in the over thirty years they had been married had he ever given her cause to mistrust him.

Olivia place her hand in is, mildly surprised to find it warm and welcoming. For some strange reason, she expected it to be cold.

Reginald smiled, and helped her to her feet, then tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and led her out of her office, through the outer office, and into the lift, which was waiting for them.

The doors closed behind them, and Reginald reached out to press the button for the, “Sub-basement? Why are you taking me there?” she asked.

“You’ll see.”

Olivia scowled. She hated surprises.

“I know you do, but trust me, this is worth it,” he said, then chuckled at the look she shot him.

Minutes later, the lift stopped, and seconds after that, the doors opened.

Olivia’s eyes grew wide.

They were not in Six’s Q-Division’s labs.

**~*007*~**

Olivia shook her head. No. This couldn’t be.

“Do you recognize this place?” Reginald asked.

“Yes,” she replied quietly, as her eyes darted around the room.

It was the compound in Italy where they’d brought White in for questioning, and discovered the existence of Quantum. A confused frown crossed her face when she spotted the fallen IV pole, and the tipped over chairs on the floor. It made no sense. This particular location had long been cleaned up, and yet she could see fresh bloodstains on the floor.

She looked to Reginald.

“Wait and watch,” he told her.

“Wait for wha…” Her voice trailed off as a door suddenly banged in the distance, and seconds later, Bond rushed into the room.

Olivia watched as he looked around frantically.

“M?! M are you here?”

“James,” she called out to him.

“He can’t hear you,” Reginald informed her. “This is a moment from the past; a shadow if you will. One you need to see to help you understand.”

“Understand what?”

Before Reginald could answer, the sound of a mobile ringing echoed through the large room. In front of her, Bond pulled the phone from his pocket, and jabbed the screen to answer the call.

“Tanner! Where’s M? Is she with you?” he asked her, and she could see the tension in his frame, could hear the worry in his voice. “Oh thank god!”

His entire body sagged with relief.

“All right. Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thanks, Bill.”

Olivia saw him disconnect the call, then clench the phone tightly in his hands, as he breathed deeply. She stepped away from Reginald, and walked over to Bond when she noticed his body shaking.

“James…” she whispered, moved by the sight of two tears tracking down his cheeks. Without conscious thought, she reached out to brush the moisture from his cheek, but stopped herself just before she made contact. She looked back at Reginald, a question in her eyes.

“He was worried about you. He was uncertain if you’d been hit by Mitchell’s bullet. Those are tears of relief,” Reginald told her. “Tanner informed him that you were with him on the plane back to England.”

Olivia nodded. She remembered. She’d wanted to wait for Bond, but Tanner had insisted on getting her out of there, and to safety as soon as possible.

Before her, Bond reached into his trouser pocket, and pulled out a crinkled photo. Olivia peered closer, and saw that it was one of Vesper with her boyfriend. 

“This is all your fault,” James muttered at the woman in the picture. “She was almost shot because of you, you stupid bitch.” He crumpled the photo in his palm as he balled his hand into a fist. “If you weren’t already dead, I’d kill you myself for putting her in danger like that.”

Olivia’s mouth fell open slightly; confusion wrapping itself around her like a blanket. Bond had resigned from Six because of Vesper Lynd. He hadn’t even had the decency to resign in person, but instead, had sent a brief email telling her of his decision to leave Six.

The hurt she’d felt when she’d opened that email came rushing back in an instant, and she shuddered under the unexpected resurgence of emotion.

She shook her head. “No,” she said in a quiet voice, turning to look at Reginald. “Bond fell in love with Miss Lynd, and he left Six because of her. This,” she pointed to the picture he was now smoothing out, “can’t mean what I think it means.”

“But it does. You were convinced his actions during this time were out of some sense of vengeance over the young woman’s death, but the truth of the matter is that his anger was fuelled by the fact that you were almost shot. Yes, he was angry about Vesper. He felt betrayed by her actions, and at how she’d manipulated him, but it was his concern, his _love_ , for you that had him chasing after Quantum.” Reginald smiled. “You see, Olivia, he saw Vesper as a consolation prize. On some level, she reminded him of you.”

Olivia shook her head again, not wanting to believe him. “No.”

“It’s true, darling,” Reginald said. “Deny it all you want, but it’s the truth.”

She watched James glare at the photo once more before he folded it, and shoved it back into his pocket. He kicked at the fallen IV pole, then stormed out of the room.

Heading for the airport, she knew, to catch the flight home Tanner had booked for him. She remembered he’d arrived a few hours behind her. She also remembered the relief she’d felt when she saw him enter Mitchell’s flat. In spite of her frustration over Mitchell’s betrayal, she had instantly felt better when Bond had returned to her. To England, she mentally corrected herself. After that everything had spun out of control again. Or so it had seemed at the time, but Bond had, as always, come through in the end.

“It’s time to go, Olivia. There’s still more to see.”

Olivia nodded, and walked back to Reginald, and placed her hand in the crook of his arm once again, allowing him to lead her back into the lift.

The doors shut.


	2. Chapter 2

The lift doors opened.

“Where are we now?” Olivia asked. The room outside the lift was dark, with only the lights from the city shining in through the window providing any illumination.

“Bond’s flat,” Reginald told her. “A past Christmas Eve.” He gestured for her to leave the lift.

Olivia hesitated.

“As like before, we shall be invisible. He won’t know we’re here,” Reginald explained. “And what I am showing you now are merely shadows of the past. Everything you see has already happened.”

Olivia tilted her head to the side. “Like in Dickens’ A Christmas Carol?”

Reginald laughed, and nodded. “Exactly like that.”

She shook her head, still half-convinced she’d fallen asleep at her desk, and was dreaming all this.

“You’re not dreaming,” Reginald told her.

Olivia’s eyes narrowed, and she scowled at him, shooting him one of her infamous death glares.

He merely smiled at her, unperturbed, then gestured for her to exit the lift once more.

“Why? What have you brought me to see? Bond carrying on with any one of the hundreds of women he’s bedded?”

“Jealous?”

She sighed.

Yes. The answer to his question was yes. She was jealous. She had always been jealous of each and every one of those other women; the ones from his assignments that she’d known about, and the ones she hadn’t known about. She had been, and still was, as much as she was loathe to admit it, jealous of them all.

Jealous of them for being with James.

“But none of them meant anything to him,” Reginald said softly.

She frowned, annoyed that even her private thoughts were not safe from him.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “It comes with the job. How else am I to help you? You are notorious for playing your cards close to your chest, my darling, even with me.”

Olivia’s shoulders sagged, and she nodded, both in acknowledgement of what he’d just said, and his earlier question about her being jealous.

“Yes. I was jealous,” she admitted. “But I had no right to be. I was a married woman.”

“Married or not, your feelings were very real,” Reginald said. “They _are_ very real still.”

Olivia sighed. It was true. She was still very jealous of any woman he happened to be with.

“But you shouldn’t be jealous of those other women. While they may have had a physical relationship with him, that is all it ever was. And you know that many of those times were work related.”

“But not all of them.”

“No. Not all of them, but he is only human, and he has needs like any other person,” Reginald told her. “But again, it was never anything more than sex for him. His heart was never involved.”

“It was one time,” Olivia said in a voice just above a whisper.

Reginald shook his head. “I’ve already told you, Miss Lynd was not what you think she was to James. She was, for want of a better description, a consolation prize.”

Olivia shook her head, but before she could say anything to contradict him, movement in the corner of the room caught her attention. She peered through the near darkness, and realized Bond was sitting in the arm chair in the corner.

“This is what I brought you to see. This is how Bond has spent many of his Christmases over the years.”

Stepping out of the lift, she slowly made her way across the room. As she got closer, she watched James lower an empty glass, placing it next to a half empty bottle of Scotch, then lay his hand over his gun which was resting on the arm of the chair.

“He looks so… alone,” she whispered sadly, trying to ignore the implications of the silencer on his gun.

“He is.”

“He shouldn’t be,” Olivia murmured, her heart breaking.

“No, he shouldn’t be,” Reginald agreed.

“But why is he alone? Surely this isn’t by choice,” she said, turning to look back over her shoulder at Reginald.

“No, it’s not by choice.”

Something in Reginald’s eyes, and the tone of his voice made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and she focused her attention on Bond again.

“Which Christmas is this?” she asked him quietly, already knowing the answer.

“The first Christmas after I died.”

Olivia’s eyes closed.

She remembered that one well.

She hadn’t wanted to go home to an empty house, not ready to face her first Christmas without Reginald, and had planned to stay at the office and work all night until exhaustion set in. Late in the evening, when she’d thought her staff had long gone home to their families, Bond had surprised her by turning up in her office, and had asked her to join him for a Christmas drink.

She had declined.

“Why did you decline?”

“I thought he felt sorry for me, and had merely asked me out of pity.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Yes.”

“Olivia.”

“What other reason could there be?”

“Your own feelings for him perhaps?”

Olivia laughed. “I told you, those feelings were nothing more than the fantasies of an old woman.”

“Were? Are you saying you don’t have feelings for him anymore? We’ve already established that you do.”

“Whether I do or not is irrelevant,” Olivia said with a sigh. “And I still reject your notion that Bond has any sort of romantic interest in me.”

“Why is that so difficult for you to believe?”

“Look at me. I’m an old woman; old enough to be his mother.”

“So?”

“So Bond has his pick of any number of younger, more beautiful women, why would he want me?”

“Because you **are** a beautiful woman.”

Olivia snorted. “No I’m not.”

“You are, but I won’t argue that with you right now.”

“Wise of you.”

Reginald scowled at her. “Perhaps one of the reasons he wants you is because you know him. You know what he does, and you accept him for who and what he is. With you, he can be himself.”

Olivia shook her head.

“Or it could simply be because his soul has recognized its mate,” Reginald said.

Olivia rolled her eyes.

“You still don’t believe James is your soulmate, do you?”

“No. I don’t.”

“You always were stubborn, Olivia,” Reginald told her with an affectionate smile. “However, I am more stubborn.”

She saw the determination in his eyes, and hers narrowed in response.

“All I wanted was to spend some time with you.”

Olivia’s head snapped around at the sound of Bond’s voice to see him holding up a photograph, talking to it.

“Neither one of us has anyone. What harm would there have been in it?”

She darted a glance at Reginald, before moving closer to James, wanting to see who he was speaking to in the picture he held, but as she made it to his side, he lowered his hand to his lap again, and his head fell back against the chair to stare up at the ceiling.

He sighed deeply, his fingers curling around the grip of his gun.

Her heart jumped into her throat, and she inhaled sharply, when he raised the gun from the arm rest. Without thinking, she reached out to grab the gun, to take it from him, but her fingers simply passed through it.

“Christ,” she swore, when all he did was rub his chest with the barrel, then lower the gun to the arm rest once again. “For a moment I thought…”

“I know, but this is merely a shadow from the past,” Reginald reminded her in a quiet voice.

She nodded mutely. His words did nothing to quiet the frantic beating of her heart. That James was sitting there with his gun, and a bottle of Scotch, was enough to worry and frighten her.

He shouldn’t be alone, she thought, as she reached out to brush the backs of her fingers against his temple, then stopped just before making contact. A futile gesture she knew, but she could not help herself, a voice whispering in her head, and her heart that he was alone because of her.

James raised his arm again to look at the photograph. “Happy Christmas, M,” he muttered sadly, closing his eyes as he lowered his arm to the arm rest.

The picture fell from his fingers.

“Now do you believe me?” Reginald asked her, stepping up beside her as she stared down at the photo.

It was a picture of her.

Her and Bond.

“When…” she began to ask, then stopped as she realized when the picture had been taken.

A State dinner held by the Prime Minister. Bond had acted as her escort and bodyguard that night, as Reginald had been away on business. One of the photographers present that evening must have snapped the photo when she and Bond were on the dance floor.

She felt her heart quicken as she remembered that evening. She’d felt light-headed and giddy when he’d taken her into his arms, and twirled her masterfully around the dance floor. She hadn’t wanted for him to let her go, or for the evening to end. And later that evening, when she’d been home in her own bed, the bed she shared with Reginald, she’d felt guilty for enjoying James’ embrace as much as she had.

“You had no reason to feel guilty then, and you have no reason to feel so now,” Reginald told her. “In those unguarded moments on the dance floor, your soul was allowed to connect with its mate. That’s why you were so happy, Olivia.”

Olivia shook her head. “Reg…” she sighed.

“You’ve just seen, with your own eyes, proof that Bond wants you, and yet you still don’t believe.”

“No. I don’t. I am still half-convinced that I’m dreaming all this. That I’ve simply fallen asleep at my desk.”

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered. “Why are you so resistant to the idea?”

“Because the idea that Bond and I are soulmates is ridiculous, as is the belief that he could harbour any romantic feelings for me. I told you, I am too old for him.”

Reginald shook his head, then grasped her elbow. “Come on, I have more to show you,” he said, and led her back to the lift.

Olivia glanced back over her shoulder, rubbing absently at the left side of her chest, as she saw that James was still asleep, his right hand still resting on his gun, his left rubbing his chest.

Her eyes remained on him until the lift doors closed.


	3. Chapter 3

A steady beep, beep, beep greeted them when the lift doors opened to reveal yet another dimly lit room.

A hospital room, to be more specific, Olivia realized, and looked at Reginald, as awareness of _when_ he had brought her dawned.

“Why here?” she asked him.

The last thing she remembered from the events at Skyfall, was collapsing into Bond’s arms in the chapel after having been shot by one of Silva’s henchmen. When she’d woken up in the hospital, in this very room, it had been to find Tanner and Mallory wearing very relieved smiles. Bond, however, had been nowhere in sight, and she had been under the impression that he’d hightailed it out of the hospital once the others had arrived. 

Reginald simply smiled, and placed his hand on her back, and guided her out of the lift.

Olivia gasped.

She’d expected to see herself lying in the bed, hooked up to the various monitors, but she hadn’t expected to see James sitting vigil beside the bed, her hand clasped tightly between both of his.

“He looks awful,” she whispered, unwilling to disturb the stillness of the room, even though she knew James could not hear her.

“He’s not left your side since you came out of surgery,” Reginald told her, as she wandered from his side to join James at her bedside.

Olivia looked at him in surprise, then shook her head. “No. He can’t have been here the whole time. James hates hospitals,” she said. “He has since he was a young boy.”

“Be that as it may, he’s been here the entire time.”

She shook her head again. “I was unconscious for two days, and when I woke up, the first face I saw belonged to one of the nurses. And after that, it was Tanner and Mallory.”

“In actuality, the first time you woke up, you woke up to James.”

“What? No, I - ”

“I’m sorry, M.”

At the whispered words, Olivia turned her attention back to James to see him press his lips to her knuckles. “Why is he apologizing?”

“I should have done a better job of protecting you,” James murmured against her fingers.

“Oh, James… no. This is not your fault,” she told him, stepping even closer to him. “He shouldn’t blame himself for this,” she said, wanting to lay her hand on his shoulder to offer him some comfort, but knowing the action would be futile. She looked at Reginald. “He didn’t know I’d been shot. I kept it from him.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew it would distract him, and he needed to concentrate on stopping Silva.”

“Which he did.”

“Yes.” Olivia nodded, unable to help the small surge of pride she felt in James. No matter the odds, he always came through in the end. And the odds had most certainly been stacked against them at Skyfall.

“Please wake up, M,” James pleaded with her prone form, reaching up to cradle the side of her face with his right hand, his left hand still clasping her limp one. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, then leaned closer, and pressed his lips to her ear.

Olivia’s eyes grew wide, and she reached up to touch her ear.

She could feel the warmth of his breath; his words loud and clear even as he whispered them to her unconscious self.

“I need you, Olivia.”

Olivia swallowed hard as the emotion in the softly uttered words seemed to resonate deep inside her.

“I need you,” he repeated, then straightened up. He slowly caressed her cheek as he withdrew his hand.

Olivia shuddered; she’d felt the caress, and the loss of warmth from his touch left her feeling chilled.

“James…”

Olivia turned at the quiet call of James’ name to see Tanner peeking into the room. She hadn’t heard the door open, and from the look on James’ face, he hadn’t heard it either.

“Any change?” Tanner asked, slipping further into the room.

“No,” James answered with a sad shake of his head.

“Have the doctors given you any idea of when she’ll wake up?”

“No.”

“I’m sure she’ll be all right,” Tanner said. “M’s strong.”

James nodded, but did not say anything.

“Have _you_ seen a doctor, James?” Tanner asked after several minutes of silence.

“No.”

“James.” Tanner chided him as only an old friend could.

“I’m fine, Bill,” James replied, in a flat voice. It was obvious to Olivia that James was merely tolerating his friend’s presence.

Tanner sighed. “The nurse said you haven’t left her side.”

“I haven’t. She wouldn’t be in this condition if it weren’t for me.”

“James, she wouldn’t be here at _all_ if it weren’t for you,” Tanner told him. “In all likelihood she’d be dead.”

“Listen to him, James,” Olivia murmured.

James shook his head.

“Look, why don’t you take a break. I know better than to suggest you get some sleep, so why don’t you go get some coffee, or I don’t know, even just clean up a little,” Tanner suggested. “I’ll stay with her so she won’t be alone.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, Bill.”

“James.”

James shook his head again. “Bill. I appreciate the offer, but I’m all right. I’m not leaving until I know she’s going to be all right.” He paused, and looked at his friend. “I can’t leave her, Bill.”

Tanner held his gaze for several moments, then nodded. “All right. But if you need anything, just ring my mobile. I’m staying at the local hotel.” He laid his hand on Bond’s shoulder, gave it a quick squeeze, then quietly made his way to the door.

“Bill,” James called after him. Tanner paused, his hand on the door handle, and looked over his shoulder at him. “Thanks.”

Tanner nodded, then left.

Olivia reached out, and this time, she brushed her fingers against his temple, even though she knew he wouldn’t be able to feel it; the act somehow comforting to her. “I wish you’d taken Tanner up on his offer,” she whispered . “You’re exhausted, James.” She looked over to Reginald. “I don’t think he slept at all after he whisked me away from the enquiry.”

“M…”

There was so much worry, and sadness in the tone of James’ voice that it tore at her heart. Olivia knew that she would wake up, but still, in that moment, she could feel his pain as if it were her own, and she ached to comfort him.

She watched as James began to play with her fingers, lightly tracing each one. “I never told you…” he murmured, as he lifted her hand, and pressed his lips to her palm, and then the inside of her wrist. “I should have told you,” he whispered against her skin.

“Told me what?” Olivia asked in a hushed voice.

A soft moan startled them both.

James’ head snapped up. “M?”

Another moan, and this time Olivia saw her head move a fraction of an inch on the pillow, as did James. He leaned closer, and squeezed her hand, his eyes filling with hope.

“Come on, M, you can do it,” James told her. “Squeeze my hand, M. Come on, let me feel you do it.”

Olivia dropped her gaze to their hands in time to see her fingers flex in his gentle grip.

“Oh god…” It was a half-laugh, half-sob of relief, as James lifted their joined hands to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“Mmm… Ja…” 

Olivia watched as her eyes fluttered open, only to close again. 

James reached out to cradle the side of her face. “I’m here, M.”

A smile flitted about her lips, as she slowly opened her eyes. “James…” she whispered in a scratchy voice.

Olivia gasped; she could feel the heat of his touch against her cheek. She swayed slightly, hazy images of relieved blue eyes floating through her mind.

“Hi,” James spoke softly, and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re going to be okay, M.”

She hummed, then closed her eyes.

James leaned down, and brushed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Sleep now, M. Everything’s going to be all right.”

Olivia whimpered when he lifted his hand from her cheek, then stood, and left the room.

“You felt it just now, didn’t you? You felt his soul touch yours?”

She turned slowly to face Reginald.

“I… I don’t…” She shook her head, unable to articulate what she was feeling, or what she’d felt. She had never experienced anything like it; even when they’d danced that time several years ago, and she’d felt so incredibly alive being in his arms. It was the same feeling, and yet it had been so much more.

Reginald smiled.

Before Olivia could say anything, the door to the hospital room opened again, and Bond walked back in, followed by the doctor.

“She woke up,” Bond was telling the doctor as they entered the room. “It was only briefly, but she opened her eyes.”

The doctor looked her over. He checked the wound on her hip, then checked her pulse, and the read out on the monitor. When he finally looked up at Bond, he smiled. “She’s out of danger,” he told James. “There is no sign of infection. I expect it to heal nicely, and with minimal scarring.”

“How long before she wakes up again?”

“A few hours perhaps. She’s sleeping on her own now, which is good, and sleep is what she needs now, Mr. Bond. It is the best thing for her.”

James nodded.

“If you need anything, just page one of the nurses,” the doctor said, walking over to the door.

“I will. Thank you, doctor,” James said.

“You’re welcome,” the other man replied, then left.

Alone once again, James pulled his mobile out of his pocket, and punched in a number. “She woke up, Bill,” he said. “No. I’m serious. Yes. Yes, the doctor said she’s out of danger. Yeah, so am I.” There was a long pause. “No. No.” Another pause. “Because I don’t want her to be angry with me.”

Olivia watched as James rolled his eyes.

“Bill. No. Look, just trust me, please, and get back down here,” he told her Chief of staff. “Thanks, Bill.”

He disconnected the call, pocketed his phone, then returned to her bedside. He reached out to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

“I hope this means that I’ll get that chance to tell you,” he said softly, and then to Olivia’s surprise, he leaned down, and feathered a light kiss to her lips.

“Tell me what, James?”

Olivia felt her heart start to beat just that little bit faster when she realized what it was she wanted to hear, what she wanted James to tell her. She needed to hear, from James’ own lips, that what Reginald had been telling her, that James felt for her what she felt for him, was indeed true.

“You’re starting to believe,” Reginald said quietly.

All she could do was nod. It was true. She _was_ starting to believe.

“Rest well, M,” James told her sleeping self, then kissed her lightly again. He straightened up, and stared down at her for several moments, before he brushed his fingers over her cheek, then quietly slipped out of the room.

“No! Where’s he…” Olivia turned to Reginald. “Where’s he going?”

“He said he’d stay until he knew you were going to be all right,” Reg reminded her, then held his hand out to her. Behind him, the wall opened, revealing the lift. “It’s time for us to leave as well.”

Olivia shook her head.

“Olivia, it’s time. You’ve seen all you need to see here.”

“Have I?”

“Yes,” Reginald replied.

“So what happens now?” Olivia asked him, placing her hand in his.

“I take you back to your office,” he replied, as he guided her back into the lift.

Olivia turned to him once the doors closed, and the lift began to move. “That’s it? Not even a glimpse into the future?”

Reginald shook his head. “No.”

Something in his tone caught her attention, and without thinking, she reached out, and pressed the stop button.

The lift shuddered to a stop.

“Even Scrooge got a peek at Christmas yet to come,” she told her husband with a smile.

Reginald sighed.

“There is something, isn’t there?” Olivia stared at him, and her smile faded away. “Reg…” she prodded when his brow furrowed, and he did not answer.

He sighed again, then slowly nodded. “Yes. There is. But I am hesitant to show you.”

The lift shook, and the lights flickered.

Reginald took a deep breath, and glanced upward. “All right,” he said, then lowered his head, and reached out to press the stop button again, and the lift resumed moving.

It sped quickly upward.

“What is it that you don’t want to show me, Reg?”

“You’ll see,” he responded in a quiet voice.


	4. Chapter 4

The lift slowed, then stopped.

When the doors did not immediately open, Olivia turned to look at Reginald, and found him standing beside her with his eyes closed. She reached out to lay her hand on his arm. “Reg?”

His eyes opened, and he turned to look at her.

“Reg, you know I’m not one of those women who are easily frightened.” He nodded, and she continued. “I am sure I have seen and done worse things throughout my time with Six, so just show me.”

Reginald inclined his head, then offered her his arm, and she slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. “What you are about to see - ”

“Has yet to happen,” Olivia finished for him.

“Yes,” Reginald told her, then looked ahead. 

Olivia followed the direction of his gaze.

The doors opened, and Olivia was surprised to see a city street before her. She took Reginald’s arm when he offered it, and together they stepped out of the lift, and onto the pavement.

It was early morning; the air cool and crisp, although it was not affecting her in any way, Olivia realized. The sun was beginning to rise, painting the sky with orangey hues, and causing the frost in the tree tops to glitter. Olivia found herself smiling at the sight.

“Where are we, Reg?” Her voice seemed loud in the still of the morning, even though she had spoken in a hushed whisper.

“Notting Hill, just outside of Bond’s flat,” he replied, pointing to the house directly across the street from where they stood.

“Why outside?” she asked.

“You’ll see.”

Moments later, the door to Bond’s flat opened, and James stepped out onto the small porch. Olivia watched attentively as he locked his door, then turned to face the street. He glanced up at the sky, and breathed deeply, and Olivia was reminded of that morning when she’d woken up in Bond’s car when they were on the run to Skyfall to find him standing in the quiet morning, staring off into the wilderness.

Ironically, in spite of the fact that they’d been in what had felt like the middle of nowhere, with a crazed former agent hell bent on killing them both, Olivia had never felt safer than when she’d been with James then.

“Yet another sign that you were both meant to be together,” Reginald told her quietly.

Olivia did not respond. There was no need; Reg had access to her thoughts. Instead she focused on Bond, curious as to why he was awake so early on… “What day is this, Reg?”

“It’s tomorrow. Christmas morning,” he responded.

“Where can he possibly be going this early on Christmas morning?” Olivia wanted to know, as she watched him take a deep breath, then exhale it slowly; his breath clouding the air in front of him. He tugged the zip of his jacket up higher, and flipped up the collar, then stuck his hands in his pockets, as he descended the few steps to the pavement.

“He’s on his way to see you,” Reginald told her.

“Me? Why?” she asked, her eyes still on James, watching as he began to cross the street.

All of a sudden there was a loud screech of tires, followed by a horrified cry from Olivia as James was struck by the car that seemed to come out of nowhere.

“JAMES!”

Olivia watched, paralyzed with fear, as the force of the impact threw James several feet, where he landed with a sickening thud. The car sped away with a squeal of its tires, swerving dangerously all over the road, as several lights snapped on in the row of flats, and a couple of doors opened.

Without thinking, Olivia ran into the street, and over to James, dropping to her knees beside him. Tears streamed down her cheeks; blood was already pooling on the pavement beneath him. “James… oh god, James…” she sobbed, as she reached out to him, wanting desperately to help him, but unable to make physical contact with him.

She was aware of the growing crowd around them; heard someone call for an ambulance, but her attention was focused on James. His breathing was shallow, raspy; his right leg bent at an awkward angle, leaving her little doubt that it was broken, and his left arm was twisted beneath his body, the shoulder dislocated or broken, she couldn’t really tell.

“Oh dear god, James.”

He groaned; the sound barely audible, and opened his eyes.

They were filled with pain as they seemed to lock with hers; the normally brilliant blue dull and hazy.

He was going to die, Olivia realized, her heart breaking with the knowledge.

“M…”

“I’m here, James…” Olivia said softly, still trying in vain to touch him; needing to touch him.

“Hang on, Mr. Bond. The ambulance in on its way!” One of his neighbours told him, as he knelt down beside James.

“… sorry… M…”

“Try not to talk.” The same man spoke again.

“M…”

The tears continued to roll down her cheeks. She could sense the life slipping away from him as she continued to look into his eyes; eyes that somehow still seemed to be looking straight into hers.

“What’s that?” She heard a woman in the crowd ask.

“It’s a gift.” Came the reply from the man kneeling beside him.

“Is it his?”

“I think so, let me check.”

Olivia glanced up from staring at James, to watch the dark-skinned man pick up a small, wrapped package that was on the road beside James’ left hip.

James groaned.

“Is there a tag?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s it say?”

“To M.”

“To Em? That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Em? Isn’t that what he was just murmuring?”

The neighbour nodded. “Perhaps she’s his girlfriend.”

Not too far off, the wails of a siren could be heard.

“Not too much longer, Mr. Bond,” the neighbour told him.

No, Olivia thought, sadly, not too much longer. His lips were already turning blue, his face pale.

“Why?” Olivia asked the question, her attention once more focused on James. “Why did this happen?”

“I don’t know, Olivia,” Reginald answered sadly.

The sirens grew louder.

They would be too late, Olivia knew, as she heard James draw a shallow breath, the sound rattling in his chest.

“Oliv…”

Pain lanced through her heart as James’ heart stopped beating.

“I’m sorry, Olivia.”

She did not reply. Couldn’t reply. James was dead. Her James. And she’d never told him how she felt. Her feelings, even though she’d fought against them, dismissed them as foolish fantasy, had been real. And it was only now, in this moment that she realized how very real they were.

Her breath hitched as a sob stuck in her throat.

“Now you know why I was hesitant to show you,” Reginald said softly.

Olivia nodded mutely, her eyes still riveted on James’ lifeless body. “Oh god, Reg…” She took a shuddering breath, her hand pressed firmly against her chest over her heart. “Please tell me this isn’t going to happen… that this isn’t real. Please tell me I’m not going to lose him this way… not like this. This is not how James should go; hit by a drunk driver.” Not without her having told him. She looked up at her husband. “Please…”

Reginald closed his eyes, seemingly looking inward, then shook his head. “I can’t say for certain. I’m sorry, Olivia.” His eyes were filled with sadness. “The future is difficult to see. There are so many paths, so many choices, the view is muddied.”

More tears spilled from her eyes, and her gaze fell back to James. For the first time in her life, Olivia felt helpless. Completely and utterly helpless. It was a feeling she was unfamiliar with. 

She was M after all. 

With a single phone call she could, quite literally, end someone’s life. On the flip side, with the same phone call, she could also spare that life.

Right now, more than anything, she wished she had that ability for real. Christ, she would give her own life right now if it meant James was still alive.

“Olivia,” Reginald spoke softly. “It’s time to go.”

Olivia closed her eyes.

When Reginald called her name again, Olivia sighed, and opened her eyes, then slowly got to her feet. Without looking at her husband, she turned and made her way to the waiting lift as the paramedics arrived on the scene. There was nothing they could do. James was gone.

Reginald joined her, and it was only when the lift doors closed, that Olivia turned around.

“Please take me back to my office,” Olivia said in a quiet voice.

“Of course,” he replied, and the lift began to move.

They rode in silence.

“Olivia - ”

“Don’t!” She shook her head. “Please, Reg. Don’t.” 

Reginald sighed, but remained quiet.

Moments later, the lift stopped, and the doors opened into the familiar hallway outside of her office.

“This is where I leave you,” Reginald told her, then reached out to grasp her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I am sorry for what you just saw and experienced, Olivia.”

“I know.”

“But, it has been good seeing you again, old girl. We may not be soulmates, but I do love you.”

“And I you, Reginald,” she replied with a sad smile, and returned the pressure of his hand before releasing it, and stepping off the lift. “I was about to say take care, but I don’t suppose that’s something you need to worry about any longer.”

Reginald shook his head.

“Good-bye, Reg,” Olivia said, then began to walk toward her office.

“You still have tonight, Olivia.”

She stopped, and looked back at him. “What?”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he pointed out. “You still have tonight. You should make it count.”

He flashed her an enigmatic smile, as the doors to the lift closed.

Olivia’s brow furrowed, and she remained standing in the hall for several moments, pondering his words. With a shake of her head, she continued on to her office. Spying the clock on the wall in the outer office, she was surprised to see that she had only been gone for no more than twenty minutes… if that.

It had felt so much longer, she thought, reaching up to rub her chest as she crossed her office to her desk. She lowered herself down into her chair with a sigh, and closed her eyes. She could not get the image of James being hit by the car out of her mind. It played in a continuous loop, the sickening sound of the impact echoing in her ears until Olivia could not take it any longer, and slammed her fists down on her desk.

“Stop!” she said, and opened her eyes. 

It was then she realized the folder containing Bond’s report was still on her desk, and it was closed. She’d left it open when she’d left with Reginald.

There was a Post-it stuck to the front of the folder, with a note scribbled on it, the words written in Reginald’s familiar handwriting.

_Olivia…_  
The future is what you make it.  
Make it yours.  
Love,  
Reg 

She heard Reginald’s words whisper in her ear again, _“You still have tonight, Olivia.”_

Olivia smiled, and grabbed the receiver off her phone, and punched one of the speed dials.

“Richards, I would like the car brought round, please,” she told the man on the other end of the line once it connected. “Thank you. Yes, I will be down in less than ten minutes,” she finished, then hung up.

Her smile grew.

**~*007*~**

“Ma’am, are you sure about this?”

Olivia smiled, and nodded. “Yes, Richards, I am certain.”

“But you’ll be without protection.”

“You don’t consider a Double-0 to be adequate protection?” she asked, then smiled when she saw Richards flush slightly.

“I’m sure that will be fine, Ma’am.”

Olivia chuckled softly. “I’m glad you approve.”

She saw Richard smile in the rear-view mirror, and flush a little more, and chuckled again. She settled back into the seat, and stared out the window at the passing scenery as the car sped along the quiet streets heading for Bond’s flat.

Bond’s flat.

On Christmas Eve.

Her stomach gave a nervous flip at the thought of spending the holiday with him. She slipped her hand into her jacket pocket, and curled her fingers around the note from Reg. She just hoped she wasn’t too late.


	5. Chapter 5

The car slowed.

“We’re here, Ma’am.”

Richards’ voice broke into her thoughts, as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the row of flats Reginald had brought her to earlier. As Richards got out of the car, and hurried round to open her door, images of James lying dead in the street flashed through her mind, but she pushed them aside; she refused to allow the fear of that future ruin her evening. Her door opened, and Richards offered her his hand.

Grabbing the package sitting beside her on the seat, she placed her hand in her driver’s, and allowed him to help her out of the car.

“I’ll wait here for you, Ma’am, until I know you’re safely inside,” he told her.

“Thank you, Richards,” she replied. “Then make sure you head straight home to enjoy the holiday with your family.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said with a broad smile. “Merry Christmas, M.”

“Merry Christmas, Richards,” Olivia responded, then made her way across the pavement, and up the stairs to Bond’s door. She rang the doorbell, then held her breath and waited.

A few moments later she heard the sound of the lock turning, and straightened her shoulders just as the door opened.

“M!?” His eyes were wide with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, James,” she said softly. “I’m hoping I’m not too late to accept your invitation for dinner.” She held up the package she’d brought with her. “I brought wine.”

A broad smile spread across James’ face. “Of course you’re not!” he said, then stepped aside, and gestured for her to enter. “Come on in.”

Olivia smiled, and stepped past him into his flat. She glanced back over her shoulder to see him looking out at her car as Richards climbed in, then drove away.

“He’s not staying?”

“No,” she answered. “I told him to go spend Christmas with his family.”

“But - ”

Olivia cut him off. “But what?” 

“Richards is your driver, your bodyguard. He’s not supposed to leave you unprotected.”

“He hasn’t,” she replied, smiling up at him. “I will be perfectly safe with you, won’t I, _007_?”

James’ chest puffed out just a little, and he nodded. “Of course. Safer than you could ever be with anyone else,” he told her, stepping up behind her, and laying his hands on her shoulders. “Let me help you with your jacket.”

With quick fingers, Olivia unbuttoned the jacket, and allowed him to ease it off her shoulders, then watched as he hung it up, then led her into his living room.

It was not a large flat, Olivia noticed, but then, he wouldn’t really need a large one. He was single, and often gone from home for weeks at a time on assignment. But it was cozy. To her left was a comfortable looking sofa, and a coffee table. A flat screen television and BluRay player sat on a small stand against the wall to her right, and directly across from her on the far wall, a set of French doors leading out to what looked to be a small balcony, in front of which sat an overstuffed armchair.

James turned to her. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much to offer in the way of a proper Christmas meal,” he told her. “I had originally hoped to take you out for dinner.”

“I know. I’m sorry, James.”

He waved off her apology. “I picked up some groceries on the way home. Some fish, some rice, and some vegetables,” he said. “Given the lateness of the hour, I don’t think we’ll find too many places open. So if you like, we can make dinner together, or if you just want to relax with a glass of the wine you brought, I’ll cook for us.”

Olivia tilted her head, and smiled. “I’m not a very good cook.”

**~*007*~**

“Would you like me to set the table?” Olivia asked.

“I don’t have a proper table, but if you don’t mind using the coffee table in the living room, sure, that’d be great,” James replied, his attention on the pot of rice he was stirring.

Olivia found herself smiling. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Plates are in the cupboard there, next to the fridge.” James pointed. “Utensils in the first drawer on the left, next to the fridge.”

Olivia stepped over to the cupboard he’d indicated, opened the door, and took out two plates, then pulled open the drawer below, grabbing the knives and forks. “Napkins?”

“Uhm, there should be some in the cupboard with the plates, if not, then I’m out.”

“I didn’t see any.”

“Then I’m out,” he said. “We can use tea towels.”

“All right,” she said, placing the plates on the counter for the fish when it was finished baking, then carried the utensils out to the living room. James’ voice followed her, “The rice will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Smells good,” she told him upon her return.

James smiled at her, then suddenly grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“What?”

He turned the fire off under the pot, then put the spoon he was using to stir the rice down on the counter beside the stove, and turned to her.

Olivia’s breath caught in her throat when he stepped into her personal space, and her heart began to race when he gently brushed his thumb against her left cheek.

“You have some flour…” His voice was low, as his fingers curled beneath her jaw, his thumb lingering on her cheek. At first she wondered what he was talking about, and then remembered that she’d dredged the fish in flour mixed with some seasoning before putting it in the dish to bake.

Their eyes met, and held.

Olivia swayed closer, tilting her head back as James lowered his. His breath was warm against her lips, which parted slightly in anticipation of his kiss.

Never had she wanted anything more than to have James kiss her.

The timer on the stove went off.

Twin sighs of disappointment followed.

James removed his fingers from her face, but allowed his lips to brush her forehead as she lowered her head. “That will be the fish,” he muttered, then stepped away.

She nodded, trying to calm her still racing heart, and watched as he grabbed the oven mitts, then opened the oven door, and removed the dish.

“Perfect,” James said with a smile, showing her the nicely browned fish and vegetables.

“Looks good,” Olivia told him approvingly.

As James served up the fish and vegetables, she moved around him, grabbed the spoon he was using for the rice, then reached for the pot. “How much rice do you want?”

“Whatever you don’t eat.”

Olivia laughed, and shook her head. After placing two spoonfuls on one plate between the fish and veggies, she spooned out the rest onto the other plate, then returned the empty pot to the stove. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to eat all of that?”

“Oh yeah,” James replied with a grin. “Why don’t you take the plates into the living room. I’m just going to put these,” he indicated the dish in his hand, and pot the rice had been cooked in, “in the sink to soak, and I’ll be right there.”

Olivia nodded, then reached for the plates, and wandered out of the kitchen. She placed the plates on the coffee table, then made herself comfortable on the sofa.

“Do you want to watch a movie while we eat?” James asked from the kitchen. “Or would you prefer to listen to music?”

“Music would be nice,” she answered, then smiled when James walked out of the kitchen carrying two glasses of wine.

He joined her on the sofa, and handed her one of the glasses, then reached for the remote on the table in front of him. He pointed it at the small stereo she hadn’t noticed earlier, and seconds later, soft instrumental Christmas music began to play. Dropping the remote back onto the table, he raised his glass.

“Cheers, M,” he said.

Olivia raised her glass to his. “Cheers.”

**~*007*~**

“Are you sure you don’t want me help you with dishes?”

“Very,” James replied. “Just relax, it won’t take me long.” With that, he disappeared into the kitchen with the last of the dishes.

Olivia relaxed back against the sofa, and sipped her wine.

Dinner had been lovely. Not only was the food quite tasty, the conversation with James had been very stimulating. They’d discussed a variety of subjects, disagreeing on a few, but agreeing on far more.

Neither had mentioned the near kiss however.

“Oh!” James’ exclamation sounded from the kitchen, and Olivia turned her head just as he hurried out carrying a purple tin. “I almost forgot dessert.”

“Really, James?” she asked when he set the tin down on the coffee table.

James shrugged. “I felt like some chocolate biscuits.”

Olivia chuckled. “You chose a good brand at least,” she said, as she sat up, then reached into the tin for one of the biscuits, and took a bite.

He flashed her a grin as he snagged one of the biscuits, popped it into his mouth, then returned to the kitchen.

She took another sip of her wine, then got to her feet, and wandered over to the French doors. As she peered out into the night, her thoughts returned to that moment in the kitchen; to when she and James had almost kissed.

Olivia touched her fingers to her lips. She could still feel his warm breath, the rough texture of his fingers as he held her face. She suddenly felt breathless all over again just with the memory of it, as well as the look in his eyes.

“Enjoying the view?”

She blinked at the sound of his voice, and saw his reflection in the glass. He was standing behind her, smiling. She hadn’t heard him approach. “Yes. It’s a lovely view.”

“Would you like to see an even better one?” James asked.

Olivia turned to face him, a curious look on her face. She nodded.

James grinned.

**~*007*~**

“Well?”

Olivia smiled. “You’re right, this is better.”

He’d brought her up to the roof of his flat. She’d been surprised when he’d led her his bedroom, to a door she had thought was his closet. It’d turned out to be a door to a stairwell, which led up to the roof. “It was what convinced me to buy the flat,” he’d told her with a smile as he’d led her up the stairs.

“You’re not too cold are you, M?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“If that changes, please let me know.”

“Have you ever known me to not speak my mind, James?”

“No, Ma’am,” James replied with a slight grin turning up the corner of his mouth. “Never.”

Olivia shook her head fondly, then returned her attention to the view. Far in the distance she could just make out the shadow of Big Ben towering above the various rooftops, and found herself glad that it was a clear night, allowing her the wonderful view of the city she loved.

It was turning out to be a wonderful Christmas, she thought. “All it needs now is to snow,” she murmured.

“M?”

She turned from the view to look at James. “I was just thinking this has been a rather nice start to Christmas, and all it needs now is a little snow.”

James grinned. “That would be nice.”

A strong wind suddenly blew across the roof, hitting her from behind, and Olivia shivered. James quickly moved to stand behind her, in an effort to block most of the cold gust.

“Maybe now we should go back in,” James suggested. “Especially as I didn’t think to grab our jackets.”

Olivia shook her head. “Not just yet.”

“M…”

“James. Please. The wind’s died down again, and you make a very nice wind break.”

James chucked. “All right. But not too much longer. I don’t want to be responsible for the boss catching pneumonia.”

A soft snort escaped her, and she nodded. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, and stared out over the city. Another breeze blew, and Olivia tried to suppress her shiver, but knew she’d failed when she felt James step closer, and then felt his hands on her arms.

Olivia couldn’t help smiling when he muttered, “Stubborn woman” as he began rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm her.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” she told him, and her smile grew when he chuckled.

“No, I wouldn’t,” James agreed with her, as he drew her back against his chest, and wrapped his arms around her.

Her eyes grew wide, then fell shut as she trembled.

“Still cold?” he asked, drawing her closer still.

Not trusting her voice, Olivia shook her head.

No. She wasn’t cold.

Far from it in fact.

Her heart was pounding in her chest; a fact she was certain he was aware of, given how securely he was holding her.

“M…” Olivia heard him whisper, as he turned her around to face him, and slowly opened her eyes when she felt his fingers feather against her cheek, and gazed up at him in the moonlight. Her breath caught in her throat at the emotions she could see in his eyes.

“M…” James said her name again, his voice low, hushed in the still of the night. “What made you change your mind about joining me for dinner?”

“The hope of this,” she responded softly.

James smiled, and slipped his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her head back a little more, as he lowered his head. He brushed his lips against hers, once, twice, then once again before finally settling his mouth firmly against hers. 

Her eyes drifted closed, and she laid one hand on his chest, the other clutching at his waist to hold herself steady as she responded to his kiss; to the gentle flicks of his tongue, and the light nibbles of her lips.

To her surprise, he made no move to deepen the kiss, and after several moments, he began to trail his lips over her face. He dropped a light kiss to the tip of her nose, and then to each cheek, before dipping back down to kiss her lips once more for several heartbeats.

Olivia moaned softly, her fingers curling into his shirt as he ghosted his lips over her nose and cheeks again, then pressed gentle kisses to her eyelids, and then to the corner of each eyes before finally reaching her forehead. There he lingered, lifting his hands to cradle her face.

“I love you, Olivia,” he whispered against her skin.

“I love you, too, James,” she whispered back.

James kissed her forehead again, then gently eased her head back. His blue eyes shone with so much love it took her breath away.

In that moment Olivia felt it.

Where before the feeling had been indescribable, she now recognized it for what it was.

She watched James’ eyes grow wide.

Their souls had come together. No longer was it merely a fleeting sensation, the feeling now was intense, all encompassing, and brought with it a feeling of peace and contentment she had never felt before.

“Did you… feel that?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“Yes,” she replied in an equally soft voice.

He smiled, and she smiled back before their mouths met again, this time in a much deeper, more passionate kiss.

Olivia moaned, and pressed closer. Her hand slid up his chest to his shoulder, fingers flexing against the firm flesh beneath the rich cotton as James’ tongue curled around hers, then continued up further to cup the back of his head. Her other hand left his waist as she wrapped her arm around his back. James continued to hold her face in his hands. He stroked her elegant cheekbones with his thumbs, as he continued to fully explore her mouth with his tongue.

She felt something cold on her forehead, her eyes and nose, her ears, and pulled her mouth from his, then smiled brightly, and laughed softly.

It was snowing.

Large, fluffy flakes floating down around them.

Olivia laughed with delight again, as she tilted her head back to gaze up into the night sky to watch the snow swirl down, the fat flakes falling onto her face. She felt James rub his thumb against her cheek, and dropped her gaze to look at him through the snow on her lashes, and found him smiling at her.

“Seems you got your wish,” he said, as he ducked his head to kiss the bits of ice from her lashes, and her brow.

“We both did,” she replied, as he kissed her left temple, and murmured an affirmative. Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia caught sight of a familiar shape, and raised her head.

“What is it?” James asked.

She felt his body tense, and glanced up at him to see him staring across the roof.

“Isn’t that?”

“Yes.” Olivia nodded, and returned her gaze to her husband. 

Reginald smiled at her - at them - then nodded, as his voice floated across the rooftop. “Be happy. Both of you.”

“Thank you, Reg,” Olivia whispered sincerely, and laid her head on James’ shoulder, as she wrapped her arms around him once again.

Reginald’s smile grew as he faded away.

“Olivia? What just happened?”

She lifted her head from James’ shoulder, and smiled at him. “It’s a long story.”


	6. Chapter 6

The sound of church bells ringing in the distance woke her.

Olivia’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and she smiled at finding herself still nestled in James’ arms on the sofa. They’d fallen asleep, she realized, flushing slightly.

When they’d come in from the roof, they’d settled on the sofa, snuggled up together with fresh glasses of wine, and Olivia had regaled him with her Dickens-like experience.

She’d told him about seeing him in Italy after Mitchell had betrayed them; about how she’d seen him that Christmas Eve alone in his flat after the first time he’d asked her to join him for Christmas dinner, and then finally when he’d sat vigil in her hospital room after Skyfall, refusing to leave her side.

She’d told him everything Reginald had showed her.

Everything except the heart-breaking moment from the future where she saw him killed by a hit and run taxi driver. She had wanted to tell him, and had even tried, but the memory of it had still been too painful.

She’d been nervous about telling him about the experience at all, a little afraid that he’d laugh at her, and think she’d gone barmy, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t laughed, and more importantly, he’d believed her.

“I’ve felt a pull to you from the moment we met,” James had told her, when she’d finished her tale. “And now I know why.” He’d kissed her then, and whispered against her lips, “My soulmate.”

The final deep gong of the bell pulled her back to the present.

It was still dark outside, but she could see hints that dawn was slowly approaching through the French doors, and her heart suddenly leapt into her throat.

It was Christmas morning.

Images of James being hit by the taxi, and then lying dead in the street rushed into her mind.

Shifting in his embrace, Olivia pushed herself up onto her elbow to look down at him.

He was sleeping peacefully, his breathing deep and even, and there was even a small smile playing about his lips.

She lifted her hand to his face, lightly tracing his features with the tips of her fingers.

He was alive.

He opened one eye, then the other, and squinted sleepily up at her. “Olivia? You okay?” he asked in a raspy voice.

“Yes. The church bells woke me, that’s all.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she whispered, then leaned down to brush a kiss over his lips. “Go back to sleep.”

He nodded, his eyes drifting closed again.

Olivia continued to gaze down at him the dim light, the memory of that horrible moment still holding her heart in its icy grip.

James opened his eyes again, and reached up to cup the side of her face. “Tell me what you saw, what you were shown that has you so frightened.”

Olivia’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “What do mean?”

“You know what I mean, Olivia,” he said, softly, with a knowing look on his still sleepy face. “You were shown something on your Dickens adventure, something which scared you. You don’t frighten easily, I know this.” He caressed her cheek, then asked in a very quiet voice, “What happened to me, Olivia?”

She closed her eyes. He was too damned perceptive. She took a steadying breath, then opened her eyes to meet his. “It was very early Christmas morning, this morning in fact, you were leaving your flat to go to Six…”

“To bring you the small gift I’d bought you.”

Olivia nodded. “You were hit by a car.”

James winced.

“I watched you die. I…” She swallowed hard, and her eyes suddenly filled with tears. “I _felt_ you die, James,” she finished in a whisper. “The pain was unbearable.”

“Oh god, Olivia…” James murmured. He thumbed away the tears that had begun to track down her cheeks. “I am sorry you had to endure that, but I can promise you, with absolute certainty, that future will not happen.”

“No you can’t.”

“But I can,” James told her, and a tender smile graced his lips. “I can, because the person I want to spend Christmas with is already here, and in my arms. So you see, I have no need to leave my flat this morning.” The look in his eyes grew heated, as he continued to look up at her. “Or any desire to do so.”

His blue eyes were filled with so much love, so much longing, that Olivia felt her heart begin to race for a whole other reason.

He had a point. There was no reason for him to venture out in the early dawn. She was not alone in her office still working. She was here… with him. The future she had been shown had been altered from the moment she’d made the decision to come see him. She’d known this, of course, but the fear that had still held tight to her heart had kept her from believing it.

“In fact…” He reached back, stretching his arm over his head to the end table, and pulled the drawer open. He fumbled for a moment, and when he brought his arm back, he was holding the same small wrapped package she’d seen from her visit to the future.

“The future is what _we_ make it, Olivia.” James told her, and held out the present to her.

“Yes it is.” She glanced to where her jacket lay draped over the back of the chair; to the slip of paper she knew was in her pocket with those same words written on it.

“And from what I can see, our future is off to very good start.” James grinned. “After all, I’ve woken up Christmas morning to you here in my arms. I could not ask for a better gift than that,” he told her.

The fear still wrapped around her heart melted away at the honest, loving expression on his face. She mirrored his touch, and cupped the side of his face. “Nor I,” she said softly. “Happy Christmas, James.”

The grin on his face grew into a tender smile. “Happy Christmas, Olivia,” he replied. “Now open your present.”

With his help, and with one hand, she ripped away the brightly coloured paper, then opened the box to find a delicate sapphire bracelet.

“Oh, James…” she gasped, and fingered the stones. “It’s beautiful.” She lifted her eyes to his. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“It’s a little awkward now, but will you put it on me later?”

“Of course.”

She closed the lid on the box, and then James stretched out to place it on the coffee table.

“I’m afraid I did not get you anything,” Olivia told him, feeling her face heat.

“Yes you did,” James countered. “I told you, you being here, and telling me you love me is the best gift I have ever received.”

“James…” Olivia whispered with a watery smile, then lowered her head as James raised his, and their mouths met in a loving kiss that grew more passionate with each beat of their hearts.

When the kiss finally tapered off, Olivia hummed happily. “I do love you, James. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Olivia.”

They shared another kiss, and then, given the early hour, and both realizing they were still sleepy, they settled back into each other’s arms, and nestled deeper into the comfortable cushions of the sofa, and closed their eyes.

“James?” Olivia murmured drowsily a short time later, and snuggled closer.

“Mmm?”

She guided his hand to the buttons of her blouse. “Later… would you like to unwrap _your_ present?”


End file.
